Barbour Ralph Henry
Left Half Harmon

CHAPTER XXI
BOB SAYS SO

Willard’s heart sank. There was no need to pick the thing up for closer examination. Its crumpled, distasteful folds showed one border missing, and, if evidence had still been lacking, closer inspection would have elicited the fact that, half obliterated by a paint smudge, the word “Harmon” was plainly printed on a corner. It was the handkerchief that he had given to Bob Newhall Saturday night to wipe his hands on.

“Yes, sir,” replied Willard.

“When and where?” asked the Doctor quietly.

“Last Saturday night, sir, at Hillsport.”

The Doctor picked the object up gingerly and dropped it back in the drawer. Then he closed the drawer slowly and gazed thoughtfully for a short moment at the book he had laid aside.

“I have received a very indignant letter from Doctor Handley, at Hillsport School,” he said presently. “He tells me that some time during Saturday night the wall of his residence was defaced with black paint in – um – in ill-advised celebration of Alton’s football victory over Hillsport.”

Willard gasped. “We – I didn’t know it was his wall, sir!” he exclaimed.

“Is that true? You didn’t know that Doctor Handley’s residence stood at the corner, across from the school entrance?”

“No, sir,” answered the boy earnestly. “I’d never been there before, sir.”

“But the others? They must have known.”

“The others?” stammered Willard.

“Yes,” replied the Doctor gently. “You said ‘we’ a moment ago.”

Willard reddened. “I – I corrected myself,” he answered.

Doctor McPherson smiled whimsically and shook his head. “I wouldn’t call it a correction, Harmon. You see, it’s extremely unlikely that you would have engaged in such a – such an amusement by yourself. Defacing property in that manner is ‘gang work’: I’ve never known it otherwise.”

Willard gulped. “Yes, sir. Well, none of us knew that wall was Doctor – Doctor – ”

“Handley’s?” asked the Principal helpfully.

“Yes, sir. We wouldn’t have done it for anything if we had known. We – we just wanted to get even with those – fellows for what they did to us last year. They painted green signs all around town here, sir, and we thought it was perfectly fair to get back at them. That’s all there was to it.”

“A very silly proceeding, Harmon. Defacing the property of others is a particularly mean and contemptible form of mischief. And the fact that the Hillsport boys indulged in it was no excuse. Indeed, the appearance of your own town should have shown you how atrocious such vandalism is. I sympathize with the resentment that was felt here last fall when it was found that Hillsport had scrawled the score on our fences and walls, but I do not sympathize in the least with the motive that led you and your companions to commit the same indecency, Harmon. Another thing is that Hillsport was careful not to deface school property. Indeed, as I recall, she displayed some care in the selection of old fences and such places for her – um – decorations. In your case you seem to have tried to do as much damage as possible.”

“But we didn’t know, sir!” protested Willard again.

“And that I find hard to believe,” replied the Doctor, shaking his head. “How many times did you paint the score up?”

“Only twice. The first time on a stable or something. We looked for fences and things like that, but there weren’t any, sir. And we wanted to put it where the Hillsport fellows would be sure to see it, and finally we found that wall! It was outside the school grounds and we didn’t any of us know it was the Principal’s house. We wouldn’t have thought of doing it there if we’d known. It was just – just a joke, sir!”

“A frightfully poor one, Harmon! Who were the others with you?”

Willard dropped his gaze and a moment of silence passed. When he raised his eyes again it was to look rather miserably at the Doctor and shake his head. “I guess I oughtn’t to say, sir,” he answered in low tones.

“I shan’t insist,” said the Doctor gently. “I know how you fellows look at such things. I can’t help reflecting, however, Harmon, that your code of honor as regards matters amongst yourselves is somewhat finer than you display in other matters. You don’t hesitate, it appears, to daub black paint over a man’s brick wall, although that man has never offended you in the least, but you’re outraged at the mere thought of giving information against companions who have aided you in your offenses. Well, you shall suit yourself. I think it my duty, though, to point out to you that, in deciding on the proper punishment in your case, the question of whether you knew or did not know that you were defacing property belonging to the school and occupied by the school Principal is important. You tell me that you did now know and that the others did not know. If, as you say, you had not been in Hillsport before, I am inclined to believe what you tell me of yourself, but I cannot take your word for the others, Harmon. It seems to me extremely unlikely that one or more of them did not know whose property it was. If I knew their names I could question them and find out. As I don’t know their names I am forced to give more credence to the probabilities than to your testimony. You see, Harmon, the affair looks very much like a deliberate insult to Doctor Handley, and it certainly calls for an apology. In apologizing I’d like greatly to be able to assure him that the affair was merely a schoolboy prank and that the depredators were not aware that it was his property they were defiling. But I can’t tell him that without more evidence than your unsupported testimony affords me. Is that clear to you?”

“Yes, sir,” answered Willard unhappily.

“And you still prefer not to give me the names of the others? Remember that I shall make every effort to find out and shall doubtless succeed.”

“I – I’d rather not, sir,” answered Willard steadily.

“In that case there is no more to be said. Pending a decision as to what disciplinary measures shall be taken, Harmon, you will observe hall restrictions. I am very sorry this has happened, my boy, and I hope it will lead you to a – um – greater respect for the rights and property of others. Good morning, Harmon.”

Willard stood up, rather pale but very straight. “I’m sorry I can’t tell you about the others, sir,” he said earnestly, “but – but I don’t believe you’d act any different yourself if you were in my place. And I’ll take the punishment without kicking, Doctor McPherson. But, just the same, it doesn’t seem fair to me that those fellows should get away with what they did and we – I should get punished for doing no more. We didn’t know we were painting up Doctor Handley’s wall. You needn’t believe me unless you want to, but it’s so! What – what’s he want to live outside the school for, anyway?” Willard ended in an indignant wail and the Doctor’s mouth trembled in a smile.

“If your idea is to shift the blame to Doctor Handley,” answered the Principal dryly, “I’m afraid it won’t work! You’ll hear from me later, Harmon. Good morning.”

“Good morning, sir,” murmured Willard.

He found Martin hidden behind a newspaper when he got back to the room, and so absorbed was the reader that not until the door had slammed shut did he know of Willard’s entry. Then he showed perturbed countenance above the Darlington Daily Messenger. “Seen this, Brand?” he asked ominously. Willard shook his head and took the proffered paper. The Hillsport correspondent had made quite a story of it.

VISITING VANDALS DEFACE PROPERTY

Saturday’s Football Game at Hillsport Commemorated by Smears of Paint

“Hillsport, Nov. 4: This town awoke on Sunday morning to find that some time during the preceding night vandals had been at work with paint and brush. In a number of conspicuous places the score of Saturday’s football game between Hillsport and Alton Academy was set forth in great black figures. To the youthful perpetrators of the outrage no place was sacred, for the ornamental brick wall about Principal Handley’s residence, adjoining the school campus, was one of the sites selected for the derisive inscription. On Parker Street, the stable belonging to Chief of Police Starbuck likewise tells the story of Alton Academy’s football victory. Probably other instances of property defacement will be found, but these so far are the most glaring that have come to light. Indignation is widespread and both town and school authorities propose to use every effort to bring the guilty persons to justice. While complete evidence is still lacking, it is generally believed that certain of the visiting party of Alton Academy students, over-excited by an unusual and unlooked for triumph over the local school, remained behind on Saturday evening and celebrated the victory in this reprehensible fashion. Indeed, it has been already established that four or five Alton youths were seen about town as late as half-past six or seven that evening. Unfortunately for them, the miscreants left a clue which if followed will undoubtedly lead to their apprehension. This is now in the hands of Chief of Police Starbuck. We understand that Principal Handley is already in correspondence with the authorities at Alton Academy and that the wanton defacement of school property will not be allowed to pass unpunished.”

Willard handed the paper back in silence. Martin grinned. “Have you anything to say before sentence is passed?” he asked sepulchrally.

“Sentence has been passed, so far as I’m concerned,” answered Willard. Martin stared. Then:

“What do you mean?” he demanded anxiously.

“I mean that I’ve just come from a fine moment with Doctor McPherson. That Principal over there, Handley or whatever his silly name is, has written to the Doctor, and sent that clue along, too.”

“Wow!” muttered Martin awedly. “Wha – what was the clue?”

“My handkerchief.”

“Good night!”

“And sweet dreams,” added Willard ironically.

“What did he say?” asked Martin after a moment of painful thought. Willard shrugged.

“He said a lot! He wasn’t so bad, though. I’ll have to say that for him. I’m on hall bounds until the faculty gets together and decides whether I’m to be boiled in oil or merely drawn and quartered. You fellows may get by all right, though. I’m the only one they’re sure of so far. Why the dickens didn’t someone say that that brick wall was the Principal’s?”

“How were we to know?” demanded Martin. “Why doesn’t he live inside where he ought to? Say, we managed to pick a couple of fine spots, didn’t we? It was a clever idea to paint up the side of the Chief of Police’s barn! Oh, we were a grand little bunch of nuts!” And Martin laughed mirthlessly.

“Yes,” agreed Willard, “we surely managed to do things up brown while we were doing!”

“Didn’t you tell ‘Mac’ that you didn’t have anything to do with it?”

“That would have been a fine song-and-dance!” jeered Willard. “What if I didn’t do any of the actual painting? I went along, didn’t I? Besides, there was my handkerchief, all stuck up with black paint. He didn’t waste any time asking me whether I’d done it. All he wanted to know was who the others were.”

“You might as well have told him,” said Martin gloomily. “He’ll find out quick enough.”

“I don’t think so,” answered Willard. “No one saw us come back, and short of taking the whole school over there and letting the restaurant folks pick you fellows out, I don’t see how they’re going to tell.”

Martin brightened. Then his face fell again. “We’ll have to fess up, Brand. It wouldn’t be fair to let you stand the whole racket.”

“That’s a swell idea,” answered the other derisively. “You and Bob off the team would help a lot, wouldn’t it?”

“We-ell – ” Martin scowled in concentrated study of the problem. Then: “Look here,” he said, “a fellow’s got to eat, anyway. Let’s go to dinner. Afterwards we’ll find Bob and – ”

His remark was interrupted by a knock at the door followed by the entrance of Bob himself, a somewhat troubled looking Bob who, without noticing anything unusual in the looks of the roommates, plunged into speech. “Say, fellows,” he announced, lowering himself into a chair and viewing them frowningly, “I’m not quite easy in my mind about that business the other night.”

“Really?” asked Martin. “How strange!”

The sarcasm was lost, however. Bob shook his head and went on. “No, because I have a horrible suspicion that I tied that handkerchief to the handle of the paint can, Brand. And if I did they’ll find it, sure as shooting. I – I suppose it had your initials on it, eh?”

Willard shook his head. “No,” he answered gently.

“Honest?” Bob perked up. “Then it won’t matter if they do find it, will it? Gee, I was getting sort of worried! You see, I thought first I’d given it back to you, Brand, and then I thought I’d thrown it away, but Cal said last night that he sort of remembered feeling it around the handle and I sort of half remember putting it there. But if it didn’t have any mark on it, we shouldn’t worry.”

“I didn’t say that,” corrected Willard. “I said it didn’t have any initials, and it didn’t. All it had was ‘Harmon’, in nice big letters.”

“Great Scott!” gasped Bob.

“By the way, you haven’t cast your eye over the Darlington paper by any chance, have you?” drawled Martin.

“No. Is there anything in it?” asked Bob anxiously.

“Why, yes, you might say so. Like to look at it?”

Bob viewed the others with growing disquiet. “What’s the joke?” he demanded, scowling. “What are you two fellows so blamed creepy about? Let’s see that paper!”

Willard and Martin said nothing until Bob had finished the story. Then: “Looks like we might have a bit o’ weather,” drawled Martin.

Bob laid the paper down softly and grinned in sickly fashion.

“I’ll say so,” he answered.

CHAPTER XXII
ON PROBATION

By mid-afternoon the news was all over school and conjecture was rife. Alton took it as a fine joke and laughed and chuckled enjoyably. Hillsport had been paid back in her own coin, and painting the football score on Principal Handley’s sacred wall was considered a veritable master-stroke of genius! Decorating the premises of Hillsport’s chief of police was also looked on approvingly, for, while it lacked the magnificence of the other effort, it nevertheless held a touch of daring that kindled youthful enthusiasm. Some of the seniors shook their heads and soberly predicted trouble, but others, knowing themselves innocent, were unconcerned with that feature of the affair. They wouldn’t have to suffer, so why worry? Oddly enough, the identity of the heroes remained a mystery, although many fellows looked wise and pretended to be able to tell a lot if they would. To Bob and Martin and the others it seemed impossible that none should recall the fact that they had remained behind when the car that bore the football players had left the school. But things had been confused that afternoon and excitement had reigned, and if anyone did recall that significant fact none made mention of it. You may be certain that none of the four jogged the memories of any of the others!

Hall restrictions, or hall bounds in student phraseology, was ordinarily not a very severe infliction. You went to chapel, classes and meals as usual, but for the rest you stayed in your dormitory building and let the world wag along without you. You were allowed the freedom of the recreation room downstairs and you could, if the hall master saw fit to allow, visit other fellows in the building. So long as you were not engaged in athletic activities you didn’t suffer greatly, although after a few days the régime began to seem decidedly monotonous. In Willard’s case hall bounds was a real punishment since it meant no more football, and he had very dreary thoughts that Monday afternoon. As required, he had acquainted Manager Ross of his forced absence from the field, and Ross had scowled and scolded, and even stormed a little, but had not, apparently, connected the fact with the happening at Hillsport on Saturday night.

Willard didn’t dare prophesy to himself what the outcome would be. He had a well-developed notion that fellows had been expelled from Alton School for misdemeanors no more heinous. In any case, he was quite certain that there would be no more football for him that fall, since even if, by a miracle, his punishment should be ultimately no worse than at present, a week or a fortnight of absence from practice would end his usefulness to the team. Coach Cade, he reflected grimly, wasn’t going to hold the left half-back position open for him! There were moments when he felt somewhat aggrieved and when he told himself bitterly that it wasn’t fair that he should be made the goat for the whole crowd. But second thought did away with all that. If he could keep the others out of it, he decided, he would do it ungrudgingly, even if it cost his dismissal. After all, the success of the football team was the big thing, and, although he couldn’t help any longer with his playing, he could help a whole big lot by keeping his tongue still.

If Willard couldn’t visit outside Haylow, there was nothing to prevent occupants of other dormitories visiting him, and after practice that afternoon four disturbed and perturbed youths sat in Number 16 and faced a puzzling situation. Martin was strong for confessing and making a public apology to Doctor Handley at Hillsport, in the hope that the Alton faculty would be lenient. He was decidedly obstinate in the matter, and it took much persuasion from Willard and Cal to alter his view. Bob was the least talkative of the four. He said he was perfectly willing to do whatever the others decided was best, but he offered no opinions. Bob blamed himself for the whole affair, from first to last, ignoring the fact that Cal had originated the scheme, and insisted that if it hadn’t been for his carelessness it would never have been connected with Willard. Mea culpa was written large on Bob’s countenance and Martin’s repeated assertion that they were all tarred with the same brush – an allusion that made Cal wince, in view of the fact that his gray suit was costing him two and a half dollars for cleansing – had no effect on his melancholy.

In the end it was Willard whose words produced conviction. “You fellows make me tired,” he declared impatiently. “What’s the use of going all over it a dozen times? The whole thing’s just this: If you fellows squeal on yourselves it isn’t going to do me any good, so far as I can see, and it’ll just about bust up the team. With the best right guard and left tackle out for the rest of the year, what’s going to happen? You know plaguey well they can’t find fellows to fill your places in the little time that’s left. We’d get licked good and hard, and that’s all there is to that. As for faculty being lenient, well, maybe they might be, but you can bet being lenient won’t let any of us play football! If we’d done something perfectly mean and putrid I’d say fess up and take the medicine, but we haven’t. We didn’t any of us know that Doctor Thingumbob lived in that house. We were just playing a practical joke and the rest was simply tough luck. You fellows just keep your silly mouths shut and go on and play football and lick the hide off Kenly. That’s all you need to do. I’ll take the punishment, whatever it is, and keep right on smiling. There’s just one thing I won’t stand for, though.” Willard looked at Bob and Martin fiercely. “If I get canned and you fellows don’t beat Kenly I’ll come back here and I’ll – I’ll mighty near kill you!”

“Oh, dry up,” muttered Bob. “You know blamed well we’ll claw the wool off those guys, Brand! You don’t have to talk that way.”

“It isn’t right, though,” said Martin.

“It’s as right as anything we can do,” asserted Cal. “We haven’t done anything criminal, even if faculty thinks we have. Brand’s got the right dope, fellows. There’s no use killing off the team just to – to salve our consciences. Look here, I don’t play football. I’ll go in with Brand. Maybe Mac will be easier if there’s two of us.”

“Oh, don’t play the silly goat,” begged Willard. “What good would it do? Where’s the sense of two getting canned, maybe, instead of one? Stop chewing the rag, for the love of mud! And pull your face together, Bob, before it freezes that way. Gosh, anyone would think you were going to be hung! You fellows beat it out of here before someone suspects, and stop looking like the criminals you are!”

Willard carried the day.

During the next few days Doctor McPherson summoned various students before him and questioned them, but learned nothing new. The weekly faculty meeting was held Wednesday evening, and Thursday morning Willard found a buff envelope on the mail board in the lower corridor of Haylow. Inside was a request that he call on the Principal that afternoon at half-past four at his residence.

“Would you pack up now or wait until afterwards?” asked Willard smilingly of Martin. Martin, however, refused to treat the matter so lightly, and growled and fumed at a great rate. At four-thirty Willard pushed the button beside Doctor McPherson’s front door and was ushered into a book-lined room on the right. The Doctor arose to meet him and shook hands, a ceremony dispensed with at the office. Then, when the visitor was seated, the Doctor picked up a typewritten sheet from the desk and handed it across.

“Read that, please, Harmon, and tell me whether you wish to sign it,” he said.

It was a letter to Doctor Handley, at Hillsport School, apologizing very humbly and, at the same time, very gracefully for what had happened. It stressed the fact that the writer had not known that he was defacing school property and was offered “on behalf of myself and my companions who participated in the regrettable act.” Willard read it through carefully and laid it back on the edge of the desk.

“Yes, sir,” he said, “I’ll be very glad to sign it.”

“Very well. I am also writing to Doctor Handley and the two letters will go together.” The Doctor dipped a pen in ink and handed it to Willard and the latter placed his signature at the bottom of the sheet.

“Thank you.” The Doctor laid the sheet aside and faced the boy again. “We gave some thought and discussion to your case last night, Harmon, and, I am glad to tell you, decided to accept your version of the incident. That is, we reached the conclusion that your statement to the effect that you and your companions were not aware of the fact that you were defacing Doctor Handley’s property was true. While you have been with us but a short time, your hall master and your instructors spoke extremely well of you, and that weighed in your favor. It was decided that you are to go on probation for the balance of the term, a penalty which you will, I think, realize is far from extreme. Probation, as you doubtless know, requires a certain standing in class and exemplary conduct. It also denies you certain privileges, amongst them participation in athletics. I may add that as fast as your fellow culprits are discovered a like penalty will be awarded to each. I hope this will be a lesson to you, Harmon. There is a very distinct line between harmless fun and lawlessness, and I trust that hereafter you will recognize it.”

Willard returned to Haylow too relieved over his escape from the extreme penalty to let the matter of probation trouble him for the time. Martin, returning from practice shortly after, performed a dance of triumph and joy. “That’s great, Brand!” he declared. “I don’t mind telling you now that I was fearing the worst. Of course, I didn’t let you see it – What are you laughing at?”

“Why, you crazy chump, I could see all along that you thought I was going to get canned! You’ve been about as jolly as an undertaker!”

“Honest? Well, I’ll tell you one thing you don’t know, son, and that is that if they had canned you I’d have gone along. I made up my mind to that!”

“What good would that have done?” jeered Willard.

“Never mind, that’s what would have happened,” replied Martin doggedly.

“Well, don’t be too care-free and light-hearted,” laughed the other. “Mac says that as fast as you chaps are found out you’ll get the same medicine.”

“He’s got to find us first,” chuckled Martin. “If he was going to do it he’d have done it before this.”

“Well, I hope you’re right. How did practice go?”

“Fine! We scored three times on the second. Son, we’ve got a real team this year!”

“Who was at left half?”

“Mawson most of the time. Longstreth had a whack at it, too. We’re going to miss you there, Brand.”

“Much obliged,” answered Willard dryly. “I guess you’ll worry along, though. What’s it like to be on pro?”

Martin’s face sobered as he shook his head. “I’ve never been there yet, and I hope I never shall, but I guess it’s sort of fairly rotten!”

And so it proved to be. While Willard was no longer confined to the dormitory, he was not allowed to go on the field and was debarred from being outside the school property after six in the evening, and the latter restriction meant that the movies, unless he chose to attend in the afternoon, would know him no more until after Christmas Recess. The hardest feature of his punishment, however, was the required standing in all classes. Marks under 85 drew frowns of disapproval, and Willard reflected that the rule that kept him inside the grounds in the evenings was not such a bad one, for only by spending the evenings in diligent study could he hope to scrape through.

Being forbidden attendance at practice or games did not, however, prevent him from witnessing the game with New Falmouth High School on Saturday. He saw it, although at a distance and in a rather uncomfortable attitude, from Felix McNatt’s window in Upton. McNatt’s room, while not on the end of the building overlooking the field, was near the corner and, by opening a window and leaning well out Willard could see all of the gridiron save the stretch of it close to the nearer stand. Fortunately for his comfort, the day was only mildly cold. New Falmouth High was not a formidable antagonist and Alton had no difficulty in running up 34 points while the adversary was securing 7. Afterwards it was stated throughout the school that McNatt won that game single-handed, but that was an exaggeration. True it is, though, that the full-back carried the ball over for four of the five touchdowns and was largely instrumental in securing the fifth! Willard observed from his aery with mingled emotions that Mawson was far from effectual on attack, although he played a consistently good game on defense. Cochran, at right half, had an off-day, and Moncks, who took his place in the third quarter, was not much better. It seemed to Willard that the Gray-and-Gold deserved a larger score than she got, for she followed the ball closely, played hard and showed real end of the season form throughout. Two penalties in the last period undoubtedly saved the visitor from a worse drubbing. The visitor’s touchdown was honestly earned in the first few minutes of play when Gil Tarver’s forward-pass to Lake fell into the hands of the enemy and a blue-and-white-legged youth raced thirty-odd yards and fell across the goal-line. A nimble-footed quarter-back added another point.

The New Falmouth game passed into history and Alton faced the next to the last contest with confidence. Oak Grove Academy was always a worthy competitor, and this year was to meet Alton on Oak Grove ground, but the Gray-and-Gold had reached her stride and the only question that concerned her adherents was the size of the score and whether Oak Grove would be represented in it. Kenly had played a stiff game with Lorimer Saturday and had won it in the last five minutes, the final score being 16 to 13. Although the best Alton had been able to do against Lorimer was to play her to a 3 to 3 tie, the Gray-and-Gold nevertheless found encouragement in the Kenly-Lorimer game, arguing that Alton’s present playing was fifty per cent better than it had been a fortnight ago, granting which a meeting between Alton and Kenly on Saturday would have found the former easily superior. Whether this reasoning was correct or not, certain it is that neither players nor adherents doubted Alton’s ability to beat Oak Grove Academy in most decisive fashion at the end of the week. But this was before Mr. Kincaid, physics instructor, put two and two together and beheld a great light.